


Weather the Storm

by japansace



Series: My Love, We Deserve the Softest Eternity [3]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: + magic, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Elves, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Prince Victor Nikiforov, they love each other so frickin' much and i can't deal aaaaaaaaahhh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-18
Updated: 2018-09-18
Packaged: 2019-07-14 00:57:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16029677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/japansace/pseuds/japansace
Summary: It is rumbling thunder outside when Victor hears him, clear from across the palace grounds as though his voice was in Victor’s very ear.It’s dark.





	Weather the Storm

**Author's Note:**

> This is a repost from my one-shot drabble series [You, Me, and Eternity.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15353814/chapters/35645943#workskin) Since I didn't want to tag the whole collection when only one chapter contains my elf kids, I decided posting this as its own thing was the best way to go about it. So, with all that out of the way--
> 
> Ages:
> 
> Victor: 1100  
> Yuuri: 1070

It is rumbling thunder outside when Victor hears him, clear from across the palace grounds as though his voice was in Victor’s very ear.

_It’s dark._

Indeed it is. The night is settling over them, well past the trees already; the twilight hour is waning, and a storm is brewing, sending all the forest inhabitants into a state of unrest.

But none more so than his precious Yuuri.

Since Victor cannot respond, he puts away his maps and logs—a bit hurriedly, though he makes sure they at least make it into their proper places—and leaves the study, footfalls coming in quick succession, though he doesn’t quite break out into a run. It is  _improper_ —apparently—and while Victor doesn’t care for the archaic propriety laws that designate that, he does care a bit more if his elven brethren take in his haste and misconstrue it for something far more serious than the night descending on them.

Still, when he breaches his and Yuuri’s private chambers, he finds himself falling into a sprint all the same.

“Yuuri?” he calls, when he doesn’t find his beloved where he had left him.

 _Here,_ Yuuri says, and there’s a knock on the wardrobe, faint but sure.

Victor waits until the first strike of lightning has drained from the room to open the cupboard. At the lull, he opens the door to find his poor love wound in the corner. At the sight of Victor, he immediately reaches out, and Victor welcomes him into his arms.

“It’s so  _loud_ ,” is all Yuuri says, clutching onto Victor for what feels to be dear life.

“I know,” Victor lies. He does not. His gift is not anywhere on the spectrum of Yuuri’s, as his own favors the elements. But he knows what Yuuri has told him, and from the description, it sounds to be a terribly overwhelming thing. He draws Yuuri back from his shoulder—just to get a look at him, at how his eyes flicker from its typical honeyed-brown to a near red each time the thoughts of others intrude on his mind. “Is it the animals?” Victor asks, brushing back Yuuri’s hair, feather-light.

Yuuri nods, teary-eyed. “They—they’re so scared of the weather, and we have to  _do something_ , Vitya. We have to—“

“We have, my darling.” Victor continues his ministrations, tracing along the part of Yuuri’s hair. “They’re all stowed away and safe. The dogs are inside. We’ve done all we can, tonight.”

As he says this, another strike of lightning descends behind them, shaking the very earth. Victor winces as he hears the horses’ distressed whinnying from beyond the window—then once more, when Yuuri’s eyes flicker again; Yuuri clutches his head with the force of it, which Victor covers with his own hands, applying a light pressure.

“I keep  _telling them_ ,” Yuuri nearly sobs, “that it can’t hurt them if they remain inside. But they don’t listen to me.”

“It is admirable that you try,” Victor says, and he means it. “But you may not be able to convince them of this, now or ever. As much as we love them, horses and dogs aren’t capable of the reasoning we elves are.”

Inexplicably, a smile twitches at Yuuri’s lips. “I was able to get through to the children though. So my suffering is not in vain.”

Yes, the children. Elves, who live so long it might as well be forever, have them so very rarely. But there are two in the woodland realm currently, which the entire community collectively dotes on. “I am glad to hear that,” Victor praises, his tone exonerating. “See, my love? You’ve done so much good this day.”

“But they—they keep  _crying_ —“

Victor hushes him, holds him close. It’s a rare thing: this vulnerable Yuuri. Usually his gift is like any other’s: able to be controlled at will, only used in the cases of negotiation or combat or—Yuuri’s specialty—espionage. But when the thoughts are so similar, so consistent—so  _constant_ —they latch, desperately, onto the one person who can hear their pleas. In such cases, Yuuri’s power runs wild, unable to be silenced.

Well, if such is the case that it must be engaged no matter what—

Victor tilts Yuuri’s chin up. “I want you to read me, darling. Only me. Can you do that?”

His irises burn bright behind the tears—with thoughts but also with sheer determination. “Okay, Vitya.” His eyes go from an intermittent flashing to entirely ablaze, singularly focused as he is on Victor, the floodgates of his beloved’s consciousness unfolding to him.

_I love you, darling. Yes, that’s it. You don’t have to suffer anymore this night. Just focus on my love for you. I could go on for days about you—about your beauty, about your strength, your intelligence. Yes, there you go. Don’t fight it. I’ll be right here to catch you, love, so focus only on me._

Yuuri sways, the toll of using his powers to their full extent an expensive one indeed. He is completely bled out of vitality within the moment, slumping into Victor’s open arms; his eyes go mercifully dark as his head falls into Victor’s shoulder, finally having been drained of the energy necessary to access his higher faculties.

“All quiet now,” Victor whispers, his fingers carding through Yuuri’s locks. “Let’s get you to bed.”

He lifts Yuuri, an arm around the shoulders and under the crux of the knees. Yuuri cannot respond—in Victor’s mind or otherwise—but finds the strength to trace a heart below Victor’s collarbone, pressing a kiss there.

“I love you too,” Victor answers the silent gesture, when he has Yuuri and himself tucked under a plethora of blankets.

Yuuri drifts off to Victor’s sweet nothings, continued aloud as though the connection never ended.

And like this, it hasn’t, nor will it ever will.

**Author's Note:**

> Yuuri and Victor are actually married at this point, but that's a story for another time...


End file.
